Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) (3 page)

Dad approaches and extends his hand. “Well shit, son, I think you just saved me some dirty work.” The stranger immediately shakes it, while the onlookers pocket their cellphones, go back to their beers and continue their loud conversations.

“This is my daughter right here… my baby. And I don’t like that kind of shit one bit.” He motions to me and then throws an arm around my neck, ruffling my hair with his other hand. He’s been doing it since I was a kid, and it’s probably the most comforting feeling I know. Also one of the most annoying when there’s a guy like this in the room.

“It’s no problem at all, sir. I don’t like that kind of stuff either.” The stranger quickly turns and heads in the direction of his stool, but my father follows.

“Hey, you know what? We’re getting this pizza here and got plenty of beer at the house. How about you come back and have dinner with us? As a ‘thank you.’ It’s the least we can do.” The stranger turns and smiles, and it’s then that his mossy hazel eyes absolutely captivate me.

Correction, they make me go completely stupid. They’re the kind of eyes that make you forget everything.

“Oh wow, I appreciate the offer, sir, but I just got in from a brutal road trip. I’m about ready to get some sleep.” He looks at me and smiles, and instinctually, I look away. I curse myself for my sudden and complete lack of confidence.

“Tomorrow then,” my father says. “The missus will cook us up something nice.”

The stranger pauses for a moment. “Tomorrow? Yeah, I think I can swing that.” He extends a hand. “My name is Xander. Xander Evans.” My dad’s hand meets his again.

“I’m Jack. This is my daughter, Paige.” I wave. “We live just outside of town at Watson Wineries. You must’ve seen it coming in off the interstate?”

“Well, I didn’t know what it was, but I certainly saw it. Quite the place you have there.”

My father laughs it off and follows the stranger—or Xander, I guess it is—to the bar. I follow close behind having grabbed our pizza from the takeout counter.

“Alright, well, come on by at seven tomorrow and we’ll set you up right.”

“I’ll be there.” Xander smiles and returns to his stool.

We make our way toward the door, and it’s then that I realize I haven’t said a word to this man. Not one. As my father and I depart Whittaker’s, I can’t help but dread tomorrow and hope to hell that Xander doesn’t show up.

But at the same time, I hope he does.

The wait is excruciating. I’m seated in a recliner in the living room as my garlic bread finishes in the oven. Mom puts the final touches on her famous spaghetti in the kitchen and Dad is out in the vineyard working late as usual. My younger brother, Caleb, is likely in his room playing video games where he can so often be found. The clock reads 6:58 p.m., and I have to fight the urge to bite my freshly manicured nails—a battle I find myself losing.

It’s not that I’m nervous to talk to the guy. Not trying to sound conceited, but I was the prom queen, for Christ’s sake. Boys do
not
intimidate me. Hell, who am I trying to convince? This is no Missouri boy. I could tell that the first time I laid eyes on him. The people here—most of them, at least—walk around with a chip on their shoulder, like they’ve got something to prove. But Xander…he seems different. So sure of himself. So confident.

Maybe I’m just bothered by the fact that I didn’t say anything to him.
Not one word
. The guy made Benji freakin’ Mathis yelp like a damn dog. I mean, come on. The least I could’ve done was say thank you to him.

The doorbell rings, and Mom comes from the kitchen wiping her spaghetti sauce-stained hands on her apron. I know I should get up and answer the door for her, but my legs are locked in place. “Caleb! Come get the door, please,” she calls up the stairs.

I hear his bedroom door swing open, crashing into the wall behind it as the doorbell rings again. He stomps to the top of the stairs.

“What the hell? I’m busy, Mom! Why can’t you get it?” She rolls her head back in annoyance, spotting me huddled in the corner. Her patient eyes are outdone only by the warm, radiating smile that never seems to leave her face. Not even when my soon-to-be sixteen-year-old brother is acting like a total asshole.

And they thought I was bad. He makes ‘teenage me’ look like a damn saint.

“I can get it, Mom.” I start to get up, but she motions for me to sit back down. With a smile she heads to the door and opens it. Xander stands with a bottle of red wine in his hands and a nervous look on his face. I can’t help but giggle at the thought of him purchasing a bottle of wine to bring to a winery.

A black V-neck grips his body and the sight of it takes the laugh right out of me. His amber hair sits perfectly on his head with no sign of product, as if he woke up that way.

“You must be Xander. Please, come in.” Mom sidesteps and he slips past her as I approach them from the front room. I catch her checking out his biceps and then the muscles in his back before she looks at me, wide-eyed, and mouths
‘wow.’

I roll my eyes as she takes the bottle from him.

“My name is Teresa. I’m Paige’s mom and Jack’s wife. It’s so great to have you!” She shuts the door and hands the wine to me as we make our way to the kitchen. Xander catches my eyes and nods. I do the same and smile, trying my best not to look like a little girl. I feel like I’m completely failing in my attempts.

“It’s great to be here, ma’am. Thank you for having me.” The back door sliding open pulls our attention, and Dad walks in, his overalls stained green and brown from a long day’s work.

He greets Xander with a smile. “Good to see you could make it! Sorry, I’m running a bit late, but I gotta grab a quick shower. I’ll meet y’all down in a few.”

Dad slips his work boots off and makes a beeline to Mom as I pull the garlic bread from the oven. His lips meet her forehead and stay there for a few moments. Her eyes close and she takes him in, day of sweat and all. I can’t help but smile. To see them is to know what true love is.

“Babe, you alright in here?”

“I’m fine, honey. Dinner will be done soon. Go clean your stinky butt.” She playfully pushes him away.

“You know you love this stinky ass!” He juts out his rear and shakes it a little, giving us all a good laugh. Then he grabs a Bud from the fridge and kisses my mother on the cheek. “I’ll go take that shower, dear.” He observes the room, eyeing each of us. “Where’s Caleb, by the way?”

Mom rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. She’s been doing a lot of that since my brother hit puberty.

“In his room, where else?” She smiles, but carries something else in her eyes—something not smile-worthy at all. I hate that my brother makes her feel that way.

My dad huffs out a sigh, rubs Mom’s shoulders and proceeds upstairs.

I pull out a chair for Xander and he accepts with a nod. As he sits down at the kitchen table, I realize I’ve still yet to say a word to him
.
 I can tell by the way he stares at me, he’s likely trying to figure out if I’m mute or not. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He just smiles and it’s then I catch a whiff of his cologne. It’s intoxicating, causing the words to become even more tangled up in my throat.

“Ugh,” I croak, my mother giggling in the background. I sneer at her then turn back to Xander.

“I’m Paige.”

“I gathered that.” He shoots me a smirk. I manage my way into the seat across from him and rest my elbows against the table.

“So, you aren’t from around here?” It comes out of my mouth sounding far more critical than I intended, and my mother shoots me a look from the stovetop—the kind of look that’s usually followed by a very motherly ‘Paige Lorraine!’ For the good of my already bruised ego, she refrains.

“I mean… we have like two thousand people in this town. We all know each other. That guy you, um, made look like an idiot last night was in eleventh grade English with me. Of course, he was only in the class because he’d already failed three grades at that point.” He laughs. Sadly, I’m serious.

“You’re right, I just got in town last night. A few hours before the… the altercation.” His sly and mysterious smile captivates me. It’s both hard to look at him and hard
not
to look at him. “I’m originally from Florida, but I’ve been all over the place awhile now. Came up from Georgia yesterday. Columbus.”

Mom lets out a loud
ughhh
and whips around to face us.

“Xander, how rude of me! Can I offer you something to drink? Water, soda, beer?”

“Beer, yeah. Beer would be great.” He gets the words out with a quickness. Hell, maybe he’s a little nervous too. I slip back into my chair a bit, my shoulders settling.

“I’ll take a beer too, Mom!” I call to her.

As she pops the tops and sets them before us, Dad comes down the stairs, to the dining area, and pulls out a chair of his own. He observes the room, smiles, and takes a seat. My brother, scrawny and desperately attached to a horrible emo fad, comes in behind him. He plops himself in a chair and grumbles under his breath.

Dad just chuckles and shakes his head. Spotting the beers in front of Xander and me, he licks his lips. “Honey, can y—” Before he can finish, Mom slips a beer in front of him. His Mizzou Tigers koozie, faded from the years, is in its rightful place. He chugs it and lets out a loud, satisfied sigh. He shakes his head.

“Where are my manners? Xander, cheers!” He lifts his beer and Xander meets it with his own. “Thank you for coming to our home, and for last night. Welcome to Truman Valley…a once great town quickly being overrun by the type you’ve already encountered.” He shakes his head solemnly and takes another long swig. “There’s a lot of good in this town, but a whole lot of bad, too.”

Xander nods, maintaining eye contact with my father throughout, something I always notice and Dad always appreciates.

“So, where are you from?” Dad asks as Mom sets down pots and pans full of Italian sausage, spaghetti sauce and noodles on placemats on the table. I join her, grabbing plates and utensils for everyone.

“I was just telling the ladies that I’m originally from Florida. But I’ve been traveling around for quite some time now.”

“Well damn, where at in Florida? My family is from Plant City. We had a big strawberry farm out there. I was pretty young… don’t remember much of it.”

“I’m actually from Ocala… right by there. I got out pretty much as soon as I could though.” He laughs, but it’s one of those laughs meant to disguise something else entirely—something deeper. “I’ve been to Plant City before though. It’s a lot like Ocala.” He laughs again, genuinely this time. “A whole lotta nothing.”

“So you say you left early…you a military man?”

Xander quickly raises a hand. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve thought about it. I have friends that are military, and I respect them a lot for it. I think though, in the end, I’m just a little too selfish.” He stops abruptly, as if he wishes he could take his words back. But my father nods approvingly, and Mom finally takes her own seat at the table.

“I saw how you operated last night. Witnessed it with my own eyes. There was nothing selfish about that.”

Xander scratches at his beer label, nervously laughing off Dad’s comment, and then we all begin shoveling food onto our plates. Everyone other than my brother, that is, who is pulling his own brand of hunger strike. Mom’s learned to not let it bother her so much.

Dad has halved his usual rapid eating pace tonight for our guest, and between swallows, he peppers Xander with questions. It’s not that he’s nosy, just naturally curious.

Ok, maybe a little nosy.

“So what brings you to our neck of the woods?” he asks through a mouthful of spaghetti. Mom glares at him, though it goes unnoticed.

Xander takes small bites, carefully dabbing his mouth with a napkin after each one. It’s one of those cute, polite things a guy will stop doing once he’s comfortable enough with you.

“I was coming up from Columbus, Georgia. Spent the better part of three years down there…and it just came time for me to move on. By the time I hit your town, I was in desperate need of a beer and a bed. The beer of which, I had plenty…” Xander laughs and lifts his empty beer. “Could I bother you for another, by the way? Or I could get it myself.”

Mom jumps to her feet, grabbing his empty bottle.

“My pleasure.” She smiles and makes her way to the fridge, emerging with three bottles, as she already knows two more requests will be coming shortly. She hardly drinks, but the same can’t be said for my father and me.

“You said you’ve been on the road awhile? Where else have you been?” Dad asks.

“Well, before Georgia, I bartended in Miami. Place was too busy for me. I spent a little time in Jacksonville and Orlando before that, more construction and some bouncing. Savannah and Charlotte for a little bit too.”

“Can I be released to my room?” my brother interjects.

“Just go, Caleb,” Dad says, a bite to his tone. Caleb gets up as quickly as he can and makes his way up the stairs. The slam of the door cuts the awkward silence in half.

“Well then, I didn’t think the spaghetti was that bad,” Mom jokes, grabbing my brother’s plate and taking it to the trash.